


Festival Hall

by missdibley



Series: The Red Nose Diaries [104]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: 38 lifetimes, 38 lifetimes fic, ACE Comic Con, Drabble, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 01:53:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17437655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: Another AU for Tom and Carmen of The Red Nose Diaries, wherein they meet at a con.





	Festival Hall

“There she is!”

“I thought she’d be thinner.”

“WELCOME HOME, CARMEN!”

Carmen DiGregorio walked just a few feet behind the security guard assigned to her, just managing to keep up with the brisk pace he set. Ducking her head, she smiled shyly and waved a little before disappearing behind the black velveteen curtains that concealed the area where, for the next 90 minutes, she would pose for pictures with fans.

She was a recent, minor addition to the Marvel Cinematic Universe. But she was comic relief, and had appeared in two films, as well as a post credits scene in the next release, so while her fandom was small it was energetic and enthusiastic. The organizers had come calling to capitalize on her newfound popularity. After they’d met the terms and rates requested by her management team, Carmen agreed to two days of photo ops, autograph sessions, and one joint panel at her very first con.

She wasn’t a top tier draw. She was just barely within reach of Zazie Beetz or Karen Gillian, both of whom had been so sweet when she tentatively reached out, first via Twitter DM then text message, for advice. They told her to wear what she liked, to be herself, and enjoy it. Considering all the time she spent working or traveling to work, shows like these might be one of the few ways she would get to connect with fans on a personal level.

The money didn’t exactly hurt, either. That, and Chicago was her hometown. Any opportunity to come home to see family and friends was always welcome.

All Carmen had to do was wait, say hello to the guests as they came in, then gamely figure out how they would pose. Say goodbye, maybe shake hands, then wait for the next party to arrive. It went by quickly and though her agent hovered nearby, always checking to see if she needed a break for water or just some fresh air, she never required it.

This was too new and novel to Carmen. How strange and wonderful to meet breathless, lovely young women who rapturously recited dialogue at her. Their hands shook, and sometimes she had to guide them gently so they knew to face the camera. It was easy to smile reassuringly at them, remind them that this was supposed to be fun. Carmen relaxed, and so they did. She was poised, and they were assured. She was prepared, and unflappable.

And then, at the end of the last photo session of the first day, Tom Hiddleston came for her.

Tom. A literal prince of the MCU. A figurative prince among actors, among men. He held her heart, just like every other girl at the con that weekend.

Well, the girls who weren’t there for Chris Evans.

“Hi,” Tom said, offering his hand. “I’m Tom.”

Carmen had expected she would meet Tom eventually. He may have been the extra secret reason she agreed to do this show. The reason why she even fought to audition for Marvel in the first place. She sent a silent prayer up to Kevin Feige, and a host of hosannas to the dear departed Stan Lee, cleared her throat.

“Hey.” She took his hand and  _ omgitwassobigandwarmandhesactuallytouchingmehowaminotdead _ smiled. “Carmen DiGregorio.”

“So how was it?” Tom looked up, just over the tops of the curtains that cocooned them, and squinted at the harsh convention center lights that hung far above them. “This is your first show, yes?”

Carmen nodded. “First show.”

“Nervous?”

Carmen’s nose wrinkled. “Kinda?” She tilted her head. “I went to cons here as a teenager…”

“Ah, you’re from Chicago, yes?” When Carmen nodded, Tom grinned. His eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “Helps to be home, I’d reckon.”

“It does.” Carmen looked up, and was momentarily lost in how kind and blue his eyes seemed. “How did it go for you? Just like all the others?”

“Not quite,” Tom confessed. “This isn’t my first show, but it’s always a few months between. And I’m only here for a few days before flying home.”

“Does it get any easier at least?” Carmen asked, voice soft. “How’s your jet lag?”

“I’ve come to accept that my jet lag is a chronic condition, and can only be managed, but never cured.”

Tom sounded so pathetic when he made this pronouncement that Carmen couldn’t help but laugh. She laughed harder when he feigned being hurt.

“That’s not a nice way to treat a fan,” he pouted.

“Oh?” Carmen looked around, noticing that, save for the photographer, who was checking his phone, and the security guard, who was also checking his phone, they were alone. “But we’re alone.”

Tom’s cheeks flushed a little. “Well, I am a fan.”

“Of me?” Carmen thought she was going to faint. “It’s not like I did anything…”

“You were very funny, I thought.” Tom slowly reached for an errant lock of curly black hair that had fallen across her eyes, tucking it behind her ear.

“Yeah?”

Tom nodded, then cleared his throat. He noticed that they were standing very close, but made no move to step away. Why would he, when her face was turning up to his and she looked so sweet and it had felt like they were all alone?

She took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

There was a clatter, and an apologetic sigh from the photographer who had begun to dismantle his equipment. He paused though when Tom waved his hands at him.

“Would you mind?” Tom pointed at himself, then at Carmen. “Just one of us?”

The photographer nodded. “Ready when you are.”

When Tom turned to look at Carmen again, her eyes were bright and mirthful. “So does this make you my fanboy?”

“Please,” Tom tutted. “Call me a fanman.”

Carmen snorted. When she made no move to look at the camera, Tom’s brow furrowed. She cleared her throat.

“It’s your picture, Tom,” she murmured. “How do you want me?”

Tom laughed, chuckling still even as he gently took Carmen by the shoulders to position her just so. He tugged on a lock of her hair before draping an around around her shoulders.

“I’ll show you later,” he whispered. “For now, just a smile will do.”


End file.
